


Battle Royal

by bombshellblonde



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M, Mentions of Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-13
Updated: 2014-03-14
Packaged: 2018-01-15 13:15:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1306135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bombshellblonde/pseuds/bombshellblonde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You know those pictures we have seen of Ian and Mickey and Terry in the Alibi with blood all over their faces? They kind of put my mind into overdrive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Things were going abnormally well for Ian and Mickey lately. Mickey was still living at the Gallagher house, contributing to the squirrel fund, making meals every so often and helping out with Liam. He convinced Ian to finally go to a doctor who diagnosed him as bipolar. 

After a lot of long fights that either ended in Mickey sleeping on the couch or Ian locking his brothers out of the room so that he could fuck the anger out into his boyfriend...Ian finally agreed to go on the medication he had been prescribed.

Mickey was out to a lot more people now too. The Gallaghers all just kind of figured it out what with Mickey and Ian sharing a bed every night, and Mandy had known for a while. But last week Mickey decided to tell Kev and V, both of which accepted him immediately, fully appreciative of the good Mickey was doing for Ian.

That's how Mickey and Ian ended up hanging out in the Alibi, shooting pool and enjoying their nice relaxing night together.

Well, relaxing at least until Terry Milkovich walked through the door. 

Ian spotted the disgusting man first, body immediately going into panic mode, dropping his pool cue and disappearing into the bathroom. Mickey had been standing on the other side of the pool table, back to the door, so he had no idea why his boyfriend had gotten so weird all of a sudden.

He put his cue down on the table and walked into the bathroom.

“Lock the door behind you.” Ian said. He had his hands braced on either side of the sink, his head was dropped down and his breathing was heavy. Mickey did as he was told but started to really worry about Ian.

“What's wrong?” He asked, walking over to the other man placing a hand on his back. Along with the openness, Mickey had become more affectionate in the last few weeks. “You took your meds today right?”

“Yeah.” Ian responded, trying to steady his breathing. “Yeah its not that...”

“Then what is it?” Mickey asked, grabbing Ian's shoulders and making the taller man face him. Ian's face went hard. Almost like it was the night Mickey had found him in that club. That's a face Mickey never wanted to see again.

“Your dad just walked in here.” The redhead finally explained. Mickey's face hardened as well and his grip on Ian's shoulders tightened. 

“I didn't think he was getting out for another 6 months.” Mickey said, eyes darting around the room, body starting to go into a state of panic.

“Yeah well he's here now.” Ian said crossing his arms, settling his feet in to the ground. He fully expected Mickey to try and sneak out the window or something. Anything to deny the fact that he was currently on a gay date with gay his boyfriend. What he wasn't expecting was for Mickey to do what he did next.

“You know what?” Mickey said, dropping his hands from Ian's shoulders and crossing them across his chest, mirroring Ian's stance. 

“Fuck him. I have been running and hiding from him my entire life. He was the reason I lost you not once, not twice, but fucking three times. My fear of him has ruled me for as long as I can fucking remember and I'm sick of it. It ends tonight.”

Ian relaxed his stance, shifting closer to Mickey, dropping his arms to his sides. “What does that mean?”

Ian watched Mickey take in a deep breath before uncrossing his arms and taking one of Ian's hands into his own.

“It means I am stronger then him. I am smarter than him and its time for him to go. Shit's gonna get violent so I want you to wait in here.” Mickey said, dropping Ian's hand and turning to leave the room. Ian grabbed his arm to stop him.

“Oh hell no you are not doing this alone.” He demanded. Mickey shook his head.

“This is my fight Ian I don't want him to hurt you.”

“Fuck that! I am well versed in how to fight a Milkovich and we both know that we work better when we are fighting side by side.”

“Ian no! We just got you back to normal.” Mickey protested.

“And I'm not gonna be able to stay that way if you walk out there and end up dead. We are doing this together, end of fucking discussion.”

Mickey chewed on his lip for a second, trying to think of something, anything to say to make Ian back down. He came up with nothing.

“Alright...” Mickey finally gave in. “You know what? Fuck it. If we are gonna do this we do it all or nothing. Follow my lead, but if we start to lose there is a gun behind the bar. You grab it and you put that fucking army training to use okay?”

Ian just nodded at Mickey's instructions, dropping the hold he had on his arm and following the older man out into the bar.

The whole world seemed to move in slow motion for those first couple of seconds. Ian and Mickey walked right back over to the pool table, making sure the cues were in arms reach. Terry spotted his son right away from his seat at the other end of the bar.

The two Milkoviches locked eyes and without even having to look over, Mickey slid a hand up to cradle the back of Ian's head, bringing their lips together in a very public kiss.

All Ian could register before the fighting started was the sound of chairs falling to the floor and a very angry Terry screaming “I'm gonna fucking kill you!”

That's when everything went red.


	2. Chapter 2

If there was one thing you learned how to do growing up in the Milkovich house it was how to fight. Mickey had spent his life loosing fights to his old man. Being pinned down and knocked out and sent to a corner to lick his wounds until his full strength came back.

But Mickey wasn't a kid anymore. Back then he was fighting for his life, fighting for himself. And too often he gave in and gave up on himself, letting Terry beat him. 

But this time he wasn't fighting for himself. He was fighting for Ian. Fighting for them both. Fighting for the love he had and the life he deserved to live.

And this time he was going to fucking win.

Terry was across the bar, lunging over the pool table before Ian and Mickey even broke their kiss. But that didn't mean they weren't prepared. Each man immediately took hold of their pool cues, swinging them like baseball bats at the older Milkovich.

Terry was on the table when the cues made contact with his skull, one hitting each side. However he had a supremely thick skull so he was thrown for a moment but only a moment. 

Ian and Mickey split up, going around the pool table on opposite ends as Terry jumped off of it. He looked to either side, trying to decide who to jump first, eyes finally landing on Ian. The man who turned his son into a fucking faggot.

He moved toward the young man, fist first, successfully landing a punch in Ian's face before the redhead could get his guard up fully. Ian stumbled backwards and smacked the side of his head on a chair on the way down. 

He was already down for the count but Terry planned on bashing his face in. Unlucky for him, Mickey jumped on his back, holding the pool cue around his neck and pulling him down to the ground.

All of the wind got knocked out of Mickey as he hit the ground, Terry landing on top of him. Terry threw his head back, hitting Mickey square in the nose, but Mickey breathed through the pain, the adrenaline and rage fueling his attack.

The fall made Mickey loose his grip on the cue and Terry used that to his advantage, turning himself over and pinning his son's body down with his own. He moved his arm to swing but Mickey regained his composure and landed a blow on Terry's chin first. 

Then another, and another. 

Until the older Milkovich fell to the ground and Mickey stood, grabbing his father by the collar of his shirt, landing blow after blow, using each punch as a punctuation to his words.

“You.” Hit. 

“Will Never.” Hit

“Touch him.” Hit

“Again!” Hit after hit after hit. Terry was swaying on his knees, blood pouring out of his nose. While Mickey was focused on his face, the young Milkovich forgot that Terry was almost always packing heat. Terry put on a visious smile and reached around his back to get his gun but before his hand could close around it a shot was fired.

Mickey was so surprised that it made him loose the grip he had on his father's shirt. But it didn't matter much because the older Milkovich was just falling to the ground, bullet firmly lodged in his back.

Once the older man dropped Mickey looked up and saw Kev standing behind the bar, gun still raised, a cold look on his face.

“Fuck Kev.” Mickey breathed out. 

“I saw him reaching for his gun.” Kev explained, lowering his own firearm and walking around the bar to reach Terry. He pulled the gun from the man's waistband and kicked it away.

“Shit.” Mickey said, running his hand through his hair. He stared at his father for another second before remembering that Ian was on the ground bleeding behind him. He quickly turned and ran over to his boyfriend, dropping to his knees and holding Ian's head in his hands.

“Umf fuck.” Ian groaned out, slowly regaining consciousness. “My head fucking hurts.”

“Yeah that's cause you practically split it open.” Mickey responded, using the bottom of his shirt to apply pressure to Ian's head. Mickey looked up at Kev who was still standing over an unconscious and bleeding Terry.

“Kev Ian needs to get checked out, call an ambulance.” Mickey said, in a much calmer tone then one would expect from a moment like this.

The only other patron in the bar, Mickey's uncle, finally spoke up from the corner he was sitting in.

“I already called.” He said, standing and walking over to the men. Kev raised his gun, fully prepared to shoot another Milkovich if need be.

“Step the fuck back.” Kev demanded.

“Calm down.” Mickey's uncle said, throwing up his arms. “I'm not gonna hurt anyone. Terry is a piece of shit who should have gotten shot a long ass time ago.” He turned to Ian and Mickey, slowly inching closer, hands still up in surrender.

Mickey remembered this uncle. His name was Tim, he was one of the few that never got high at his house. He even protected Mickey and Mandy once or twice when Terry was in a bad mood. Why he still hung out with the bastard was simply because the Milkovich family sticks together. No matter how shitty they think each other are.

“I used to be a paramedic, let me look at him?” Tim asked, gesturing to Ian. The redhead shot a concerned look up at Mickey but Mickey rubbed at his temples to sooth him.

“It's okay. He's okay.” Mickey said, causing Kev to lower his gun and Mickey to shift over slightly so Tim could properly inspect Ian's head.

“Right okay so it's only a flesh wound. Head injuries always bleed more and look worse then they are. He might need a stitch or two and he will probably have a concussion but other then that he will be fine.” Tim reassured them, giving Mickey a small smile before moving over to Terry and checking his pulse.

“He's alive but just barely. Even if he survives, with a bullet to the back its highly unlikely he will ever walk again. And when he does it will be in prison.”

“What did you say when you called the paramedics?” Kev asked, moving back behind the bar and putting his gun away.

“I said there was a shooting so the cops will be here too. But don't worry.” Tim responded, seeing Kev's eyes widen.

“You just tell them Terry was trying to rob you, he pulled a gun on one of your patrons and you took the opportunity to shoot him before he could hurt anyone.”

“That could work.” Mickey said from his spot on the floor where Ian was still laying. “Terry is a piece of shit and the cops know it. You'd probably get a fucking parade for shooting him.”

Everyone smiled slightly at the comment before hearing sirens outside on the street.


End file.
